Sunday matters

On this holiday Monday, I’m thinking about Sunday.

I remember when I was a rector, there were times I’d run into a parishioner in the grocery store, or almost run into them. Sometimes they’d see me at the other end of the aisle and pull a 180. Other times, we might have the chance to converse and I would get awkward apologies about why they hadn’t been in church recently. I considered shopping in another town.

I tried to assure people I wasn’t taking attendance. Occasionally, I’d confess to myself that I hadn’t noticed their absence (my bad). I learned that I was not the only one who faced this dynamic. As one of my colleagues said, after he’d had a few of these encounters: “I’m not a truant officer.”

The news tells us that patterns of church attendance are shifting. Regular church attendance today would formerly have been considered sporadic. In previous generations, there was no competition for Sunday morning. Now soccer games, open malls and little if no cultural expectation compete with worship on Sunday. Summer is upon us, a season when church attendance drops, prompting one child to ask: Is God on vacation?

I can imagine any number of reasons why church attendance is in decline. Too often, worship can seem boring or irrelevant. Often clergy (at least this clergyman) and congregants appear to go through the motions, not quite on auto-pilot but closer than I’d like to admit. Often the failures of organized religion (or disorganized religion in the case of the Episcopal Church) drive people away. Often we are answering questions no one is asking. Often we fail to offer challenge, a way to put faith to work in the world. Often we promote our own tribal notions of what worship should be rather than proclaiming good news, telling the story of Jesus and his love. I could go on. The question surfaces: Why go to church?

I got to thinking about that question when I read a newspaper article last week. (Raleigh News and Observer, Health and Fitness section, 5.23.2016.) A new study released in a journal published by the American Medical Association indicates that church attendance is actually good for your health. People who go to church apparently live longer. I thought: There’s got to be some way I could use this information.

But I think we need to shift from focusing only on what we get out of worship, move away from thinking of worship as consumer product, as entertainment, as a presentation subject to our critique, dependent on our approval. Can we move towards a focus on what we bring to the experience, what we offer, how we can be of service, in anticipation of a transformative encounter with the Holy One?

The idea of a weekly gathering goes back to the first days of the church. Christians got together on the first day of the week, for remembrance of resurrection, to be reminded of new life, for eucharist (thanksgiving) recalling grace experienced in the Jesus movement. They gathered for strength to carry on the journey, mindful that one can’t be a Christian alone. They needed to be together in a hostile culture. They gathered so the world could witness a new kind of community marked by compassion. The Book of Acts tells us that outsiders looked at the early church and said “See how they love one another”, with the implication that they soon would join.

With cultural pressure to show up on Sunday dissipating, it’s an opportunity to discover a new call to worship. Communal worship (a.k.a, Common Prayer) alone will not be the key to our spiritual growth, but it is an indispensable element. So ask these questions: What is my spiritual community? What is the commitment, for me and my household, as regards to gathering for worship? Where do I go to find strength for the journey? How can I support others in that journey? What do I bring to the table? What can I offer? How will the community be diminished by my absence? How will it grow with my presence?

-Jay Sidebotham

And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them.

-Acts 20:7

 

 

 

 

And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

-Hebrews 10:24,25

 

 

 

 

Worship is like a drama:

The clergy, ministers and musicians are the prompters;

the people are the actors; 

and God is the audience.

-Søren Kierkegaard

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

Monday, May 23, 2016

After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, “Peace to this house!” And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the labourer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.”

-Luke 10

So I’m sitting on the floor of the Phoenix airport, near the gate, waiting to board. It’s crowded. The plane is delayed. Folks are grouchy. I’m wearing jeans and an old shirt so no one knows I’m an Episcopal priest. Incognito, I can be as cranky as I want without impeding the spread of the gospel. I’m focused on my laptop, in my zone. But for some reason I look up to see a guy in a clerical collar. He’s got a big nametag that says chaplain. And then I recognize him. He’s the Bishop of Arizona.

I’m not sure I’d ever met him in person, but he’s well known and well regarded in the wider church. We have some mutual friends. So I yelled to him, “Hey, Bishop.” I introduced myself, told him what I was doing in town (I was leading a Vestry retreat for one of the local parishes) and mentioned the folks we knew in common. Having done with all that, I asked what he was doing.

He told me that he asks each of his clergy to spend time serving as chaplain somewhere in the community, usually one day a month. The venues come in great variety. He said that if he asked his clergy to do that, he should do it too. So he clears the bishop’s calendar (loaded with meetings about meetings about the next meeting) and spends one day a month practicing a ministry of presence in the airline terminal of all places.

As I suspect you know all to well, it’s a place ripe for pastoral care. The harvest is plentiful (see gospel reading above.) The whole system breeds anxiety. In case you forget the anxiety, they insist on reminding you by having you remove your loafers which after all could be incendiary devices that bring down the aircraft. (Have a good day!). The boarding process has become a parable of a grace-starved world, as the human community is divided into an increasing number of categories conveying status. First class. Premium, Platinum. Gold. Silver, Wood. Hay. Stubble.

Often people prepare to board a plane at critical moments in their journeys. Saying goodbye. Reuniting. Responding to a crisis. Moving to a new home. Trying to make a meeting or meet a deadline. Often people are fatigued, worried about travel, fearful of flying. And meaning no offense to the folks who staff the desks, the airlines seem increasingly limited in the ability to provide humane service. Clearly, this place could use a chaplain.

There were many things I loved about what I learned that afternoon. The bishop was providing a good example of the mission of the church. It was not about hoping people would stumble through the red doors of the local parish. (Really, how likely is that these days?) It was not about expecting people to find their ways into our pews, picking up our special, occasionally precious rituals. It was about going out into the neighborhood, doing what Jesus asked his disciples to do (though I’m not certain what they would do in an airport), doing what Jesus himself did. In a world where it seems nothing is free, it came close to being an unconditional offering.

The airport was one place where a chaplain might really come in handy. I can think of others. A workplace. A dining room table. A hospital waiting room. The line for unemployment insurance. This kind of ministry in the world need not be limited to bishops. Each one of us can take the opportunity to think about where God calls us to be of service, to show love without expecting return, meeting the anxiety and fear of the world with a word of grace and kindness. Or maybe no word at all. Just presence.

Will this Monday in May provide that kind of opportunity? I’m guessing it will. Don’t miss it.

–Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

Everyone has a story

Way back when, as I announced to my boss that I was leaving the ad agency to enroll in seminary, a number of co-workers were surprised. I had been private about my church involvement, not to mention my desire to go deeper in theological study. It was not the kind of thing we talked about around the water cooler or at happy hour. When I broke the news to my boss, who had had a few martinis at lunch that day, I said I was leaving to study theology. He heard geology and said: “I had no idea you were interested in rocks.”

There were a couple weeks where I continued at work. Much to my surprise, almost to a person, folks in the agency came by to talk, closing the office door to share their own experiences (good and bad) with church or religion or the spiritual life. We had worked together for years and never talked about it. In amazing variety, the stories were there in each person.

Years later, a parishioner asked for help in sorting out a question. She was a successful lawyer, in a firm filled with other hard-working folks. They were honorable, moral folks. For the most part, they had no connection with church. She puzzled about that. So she decided to invite a few of them to dinner. There were a few churchgoers added to the mix, but mostly not. With her dinner invite, she offered this heads up: We’re going to have a conversation over dinner. You will be asked to fill in the blank. God in my life:___________________. No one declined the invite. The group met and you couldn’t shut them up. Everyone had a story. The group continued to meet, on a monthly basis, to explore the question. It became a community, in its own way, a kind of church.

These recollections were triggered by an article sent to me last week, entitled: “When you’re called to your life’s work.” It builds on the 2006 Gallup Poll which said that 33% of respondents found that the following statement completely applied to them: “I have had a profound religious experience or awakening that changed the direction of my life.”

The article tells about an Anglican priest in Australia, Dr. Hugh Kempster, who recognized how hard it was for people to talk about those experiences. He started a group called Mystics Anonymous, offering a chance to talk about the life of the Spirit, because as Dr. Kempster said: “Everyone has a story.’

The article tells about a medical student, raised in the Catholic Church, working in a homeless shelter in Philadelphia. One day she heard a commotion at the entrance. An elderly man, dirty, disheveled, drunk, stumbled in, bottle in hand. The staff tried to redirect him to another shelter. The man found the face of this intern and said “Can’t you tell them I have to stay?” That was a turning point. She said: “Where I come from we were always encouraged to look for a Christ in our midst, coming down from the cross and asking for help.” She saw Christ in the elderly man’s face. It led her to a new direction, to dedicate her medical career to work with the neediest, most difficult populations.That was her story.

Augustine said each of us has a God-shaped space inside. Our hearts are restless until that space is filled. This Monday morning, are you aware of that space? Before you tell anyone else, tell yourself the story of that space. How it is being filled? Recall a moment of religious experience or awakening. Then, is there anyone in your life you can talk to about that experience? Is there a way to open the door for that kind of conversation, in ways that are kind and inviting and grace-filled?

Everyone has a story. They are so worth telling.

-Jay Sidebotham

Musician friends:

I was thinking about my passion for music this morning. To be truthful, I don’t share it very overtly (unfortunately). I’m very passionate, but keep it somewhat close-to-the-vest publicly.

But I’d be curious what some of you earliest memories of getting “hooked” are.

For me – it was being a 10 yr-old trumpeter, playing “Russian Sailor’s Dance” and thinking to myself: “how does this guy (Gliere) basically pull off one long accelerando and crescendo throughout the entire piece!?” For me, the ending was way better than rock music. (remember, I was TEN).

Also – a year later, playing Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” and LOVING the harmonies in his little brass fanfares.

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

A spiritual Fitbit

One year, I gave my wife a vacuum cleaner for her birthday. Bad idea. She actually requested one when I asked what she wanted. But with the wisdom of hindsight, that doesn’t matter. Take it from me: Find another occasion to give someone you love a vacuum cleaner.

Maybe turn about is fair play. I had a birthday recently and my beloved gave me a Fitbit. Strapped to my wrist, it tells how far I’ve walked, how many stairs I’ve taken. It shows my pulse, calorie intake, and how well I sleep. It’s good to know all that, I guess, but the gift conveys a message that I could probably be doing better. One of those growth opportunities.

In the short time I’ve been wearing it, I admit it has made me more mindful. It has made me choose stairs over escalator at the airport. It drove me to choose furthest parking space, not closest. It motivated me to pass on the donuts near the coffee machine at work. No more onion rings. In other words, it is shifting the way I think about health. It has made me more aware, or awake. And it’s made me wonder, maybe because it’s my line of work, what a spiritual Fitbit would look like.

I’m spending a lot of time in the work I’m doing thinking about what makes for spiritual health. As I read doom and gloom statistics about organized religion, mainline congregations and religious affiliation, I’ve come to believe that the spiritual health of a denomination is linked to the spiritual health of local congregations which is linked to the spiritual health of individuals in them. I call it the cellular model. It means that each person who identifies and affiliates with the church (or with the Jesus movement, as our Presiding Bishop calls it) has both the freedom and responsibility to participate in those things that make for spiritual health.

It all has to do with spiritual practice, the word practice a double entendre, an indication of what we do practically, but also in the sense of practice by which we get better, go deeper, grow. It can easily be heard as a message that it’s all up to us, that unsatisfying brand of teeth-gritting religion that feeds the ego and thrives on comparison (Jesus loves you but I’m his favorite.) Spiritual health will acknowledge that temptation and by God’s grace, move beyond it towards awakeness and awareness. Spiritual health will set up habits of gratitude, silence, prayer, study, service. A spiritual Fitbit would be like a coach, commending practices that draw us deeper into love of God, reminding us that we’ve been through a day without offering thanks, or being of service, or finding some way to listen for God’s voice in all the clutter.

One pastor I know invites his congregation to the 10/10 rule, ten minutes of reading scripture, ten minutes of prayer or silence. Those who practice Centering Prayer and other contemplative traditions often recommend 20 minutes of silence in the morning and evening. Forward Day by Day is one way of developing patterns of spiritual health. I know one executive who begins each day with quiet reflection on the values he considers important for the day ahead, and then reviewing at the end of the day the ways he lived into those values. You get the idea.

In our culture we have coaches for all kinds of things: sports, finance, nutrition, management skills, job search, life decisions, relationships. Where are you finding spiritual coaching, the encouragement and challenge to go deeper in your life with God, to practice those practices that open the doorway for that deeper relationship with God?

It’s Monday morning, a good time to start.

-Jay Sidebotham

Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it. Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable garland, but we an imperishable one. So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air.
-2 Corin. 9:24-26

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.
-Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
-Philippians 2:13

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
-2 Timothy 4:7

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.

Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids– blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. Now that day was a Sabbath.
-John 5

So help me out here.

I’m plenty supportive of the bracelet, WWJD (What would Jesus do?). The world would be a better place if folks paused to ask that question more often. In this political season, I wish our candidates were spending more time on the question. But the fact is, sometimes the Jesus we meet in the gospels doesn’t do or say what I would script.

That’s probably providential. Case in point: yesterday’s gospel (above), Jesus addresses a man who’d been ill for 38 years. Not 38 minutes (that would be enough to do me in.) Not 38 days or months. 38 years. Jesus approaches and asks: Do you want to be made well?

Really, Jesus?

The gospels are full of stories of Jesus healing people. Sometimes he reaches out to people with a healing touch. Sometimes he responds to a persistent request for healing, someone shouting from the sidelines. Sometimes he heals without seeming to know it (a woman in a crowd reaches out to touch the edge of his robe and experiences healing). Sometimes he heals because faithful friends come forward on behalf of someone else. Good friends. (See Mark 2.) In the story we read yesterday, he asks the man impaired for almost four decades whether he wants to be made well.

Is there any other answer but yes?

Taking the passage at face value, apparently there is some question that this man would wish to be made well. We don’t know much about him. I don’t want to turn this into a blame-the-victim story. But I’m wondering if there is a parallel/parable here for us? The particulars of this man aside, how does this question sound to us: Do you wish to be made well?

It may be that the path to wellness signals change. None of us (especially Episcopalians) are big fans of change. As the social critic Dilbert put it: Change is good. You go first. It’s been interesting to discover in the work we do with congregations, work focused on spiritual growth, that people often don’t expect or want much to be different. There’s not much expectation of such a possibility, especially as far as engagement with the church is concerned.

But parish ministry has taught me at least one thing. Everybody has a need for healing. Those needs surface in a variety of ways: healing of body, mind, spirit, relationship, memory. The needs are individual and corporate and if the current dispiriting political discourse is demonstrating anything, it is that there is a need for healing in our common life.

So this Monday morning, making your way through routine, maybe doing things you always do in the way you always do them, perhaps limited or bound by some particular need for healing, take a simple step. Think about whether you are open to something new. Invite Jesus’ power into that place. See what happens. Take up your mat.

-Jay Sidebotham

Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org

If you’d like to join in this donor-based ministry, donate here.